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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23785150">The Evangelist and the Chocolate Factory</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gorillaz, charlie and the chocolate factory musical - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Child Abuse, Gorillaz kids, Parody, domestic abuse, drunk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:35:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,128</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23785150</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Setting: 1998 UK</p><p>Cyborg: 14 y/o<br/>Murdoc: 12 y/o<br/>Russel: 11 1/2 y/o<br/>2D/ Stu: 11 y/o<br/>Noodle: 2 y/o</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Meet the Niccals Household</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WARNING<br/>CONTAINS ALCOHOLISM, CHILD ABUSE, AND FEAR</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>     The record player rocked and knocked about when the heavy metal played throughout the small, dirty living room. Sebastian laid drunk and asleep in his chair, saliva trailing down his chapped lips, muttering and all pissed. Maybe some chips and pita would’ve been a good idea a few hours ago. The twelve-year-old Murdoc Niccals turned off the record player in fear of his father beating him if we dared to wake up. He lived with his creation, his brother Hannibal, little Noodle, and his wretched drunk of a father. His other friends, Russel and Stuart, probably have better lives with complete families and better food to eat. Maybe some slow Latino music would calm his nerves in his bedroom just as long as Sebastian doesn’t wake to hear it. </p><p>     “You should prepare some hot chocolate for yourself,” Cyborg suggested to her creator. “I’ll be in the basement with Noodle, feeding her.”</p><p>     “Remember to lock the basement, girl,” Murdoc gawked with concerned eyebrows. He can smell his father’s whiskey-wakeup stench. <br/>
     Sebastian always hated that teenage cyborg despite the fact his own son created her. He would attempt to slap the infant or the teen, but only get a new target, Murdoc. The girl would carry away the little Noodle to the basement, lock the door, and try to stomach the shouting and quarreling. Hannibal didn’t mind the girls, but wasn’t always there to protect them. When he’s around, he would try to fight off Sebastian or hit his own father with his treasures, alcohol bottles. The presence of Hannibal always vanished when the children really needed him like smoke or vapor. The reminiscent aroma of marijuana lingered upstairs since Hannibal resided in the upstairs bedroom with his younger brother. <br/>
     Cyborg ran into the basement and quietly closed the door. She hurried down the stairs and made sure to not make as much as a little creak. The infant in her hands whimpered, feeling hungry. Luckily, there was cheap pharmacy baby formula and food bought by Hannibal. The supplies were neatly set on the shelves, ready to be used. The variety of foods and diapers were stocked like emergency medical supplies. The cyborg made a grab for the split peas and prepared the powdered milk into the water mixture. The inside of the bottle looked like a mini tornado, spinning and spiraling like their current situation and fears. <br/>
     “Here, baby,” Cyborg sat Noodle down into her wooden high chair and spoon fed her the split peas. <br/>
      Noodle wasn’t the fussy or picky type of child, but she was crazy as she was sweet. The baby happily babbled and chomped onto the spoon of baby food. <br/>
     “It’s not the best,” said the robot, “but it’s the best we could get.”</p><p>     Meanwhile, Hannibal tip-toed into the front entrance, trying not to make a sound while he assumed his father was asleep. “Murdoc,” he whispered, seeing his brother mix some cocoa powder with cold milk. <br/>
     The child turned to see his older brother. He chased into his warm embrace, sniffling into his chest.</p><p>     The kitchen became a bright orange, distributing the love and warmth into nearby souls. Hannibal’s thread hair blowing and his tight hug engulfing Murdoc into a whirlwind of emotions and mental recovery. The fiery red shade and oranges touch each other, contrasting with brown and yellows, and creating a hot world of reassurance, acceptance, sweet honey-flavored family time. <br/>
     “I hope you’re okay, little shit,” Hannibal messed with his brother’s hair. “I was at work and I got us a little something.”</p><p>     Inside Hannibal’s palm was a shiny chocolate bar. It was from the Evangelist company, the nearby closed factory. He thought it was forever closed like the woman said, but she seems to be producing more sweets, painting smiles on children’s faces and bringing hope, even shreds, tatters, and morsels of said hope. Her ghost, spirit, and angel has entered Murdoc instantly upon gazing on the bar. <br/>
     “Y-you didn’t!” Murdoc squeaked. He took the bar and unwrapped it, shaking and barely breathing. “N-no, no. I don’t deserve it, Hannibal.”</p><p>     “Listen here, motherfucker,” Hannibal firmly chided. “You are going to accept this, share it with the girls, and do it for MY fucking sake and for yours too. Your band mates would be happy if you did. Even Miss Evangelist would be happy if you enjoyed this bar and shared it. Don’t let Dad see this.”</p><p>     Murdoc nodded in agreement as his brother’s hand stroked his hair gently, almost like his mother would before she died hours after his birth. He embraced Hannibal one more time, the warmth and colors spreading even farther. Hope grew and grew with each passing second of the embrace.<br/>
     He knocked softly on the basement door, alerting Cyborg’s defense system. The door unlocked, showcasing a triggered cyborg, gun barrel flashing from her mouth as Murdoc flinched in fear. The girl quickly put back her weapon and snatched her master’s jacket collar into the basement. She scanned around for anyone else until she saw Hannibal. She had seen him before, but not enough to fully trust him. Her system didn’t recognize him as foe or friend, or anything in between at all. Her eyes squinted even farther, almost scowling at the older brother. Her face disappeared, slowly locking the basement door for safety orders and measures. <br/>
     “Hannibal gave me this,” Murdoc showed the chocolate bar, starting to part the bar for his creation and baby sister. “I should update your scanners and everything and teach you more about my brother. He protects us from HIM.”</p><p>     Cyborg nodded and began to eat the portion, grinding the food through her false teeth, and deposited the crushed up treat in her storage, which was her stomach. She would be able to process it into waste soon like a human, but she knew she was never supposed to be a normal child, but more of a beloved trophy. Sure, she goes to secondary school, but under another alias, “Yumiko”. She never really spoke to much of her peers, so she was mostly alone. Cyborg would try to avoid anything like screens or water as they interfere with her sensors and alarm systems. <br/>
     “There’s a chance the Evangelist might make a comeback,” Murdoc chuckled, giving a portion of the bar to baby Noodle. <br/>
     “Yeah?” Cyborg asked, giving Noodle a rub on her back. “I tried to doing my homework earlier and your father tried to break in here, demanding for packets of whiskey.”</p><p>     Murdoc’s eyes widened. “There’s no alcohol in that basement. He’s trying to hurt you and the baby!” He grabbed the teen’s shoulder and tried to seem taller than her. “Don’t you EVER listen to that fuckbag’s voice or anything!”</p><p>     Noodle whimpered, thinking that Murdoc would turn into Sebastian any minute and hurt her and her older sister. She sobbed at the similarity.</p><p>     “No, no, no, Noodle!” Murdoc picked up the infant and patted her back. “It’s okay! Shhh...”</p><p>     “I heard you say that there’ll be a band meeting tomorrow,” Cyborg brung up. ”Am I correct?”</p><p>     “Yes,” Murdoc placed the infant back into her chair and perked himself up. “We’ll discuss about this whole chocolate thing. If Evangelist is making a comeback, there must be something special that she wants to do.” Murdoc picked up his wrench. “We’ll discuss about this tomorrow after school. Right now, it’s time to update your identification sensors and scanners.” He booted up his Macintosh and unbuttoned Cyborg’s shirt and moved her camisole a bit. “Do you approve?”</p><p>     “Hai,” Cyborg agreed. “I want to learn more about the people who are close to you.”</p><p>     Murdoc plugged the wire into her back and the other end into his computer. He opened up his program, <em><span class="u">CyCodez</span></em>, and began typing. Small commands like ‘<em>input</em>’, ‘<em>mem</em>’, ‘<em>fight</em>’, ‘<em>retreat</em>’, and ‘<em>ID</em>’ were some of the things he used for this update. He was truly a computer nerd, but always hid this side of him with his gothic metalhead outfits. Cyborg was truly his big sister creation. She was meant to protect him, his friends, and babysit little Noodle; however, as well as playing guitar for their kid band, Gorillaz.<br/>
     Noodle came from a little crate from Japan. Attached to her pillow was a note from scientists claiming that she is predicted as much too dangerous to train and she was too young to be killed, so she needed a loving family who can teach her right from wrong. Murdoc voted for keep the baby and he really wanted it more than the other boys. <br/>
     “All done,” Murdoc clicked, ‘confrim’ and exited out of <em><span class="u">CyCodez</span></em>.</p><p>     “Arigato, otoutou-kun,” Cyborg signaled a thumbs up and placed her shirt back on. “You gave me great knowledge.”</p><p>     Murdoc hugged his older sister and unhooked the cords. “Rest now. We have school tomorrow and Papa’s going to the cafe before the bus gets here.”<br/>
     </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Evangelical Message</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WARNING<br/>CONTAINS CHILD ABUSE, ATTEMPTED ASSAULT, HOMOPHOBIA, AND SMOKING</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="hLcpP">     The three boys sat at the table of the Pot household and crossed their arms. <br/>     “Muds, you got a good point,” Russel snapped his fingers. “Why would that lady make a comeback if she’s not planning something big? I’ve seen some kids whispering during recess, but nothing big.”</p><p class="hLcpP">     Russel’s words were soon to prove laughable as the little Noodle turned on the Telly. She wanted to watch Pokémon or some Cartoon Network shows only to see a news outlet reporting outside the local Evangelical Factory. The tall silver building was being presented as the luxury gates kept the reporter out of the woman’s property. The cameras had their eyes on the main reporter and his assistant with a notebook.</p><p class="hLcpP">     “Johnathan Carter here at the local chocolate factory,” said the nosy man, “we thought the creme was just as spoiled as my wife’s spotted dick, but the factory is reopening with a little kiddie contest.”</p><p class="hLcpP">     “Ooh! I love a good kiddie fight!” the female assistant shouted in excitement. “Five children, I heard, will have the opportunity to be on a special tour and winner gets an unknown prize. All by getting a lousy ticket in a soda, surprise egg, chocolate bar, or bag of other candies.” She drank her coffee and dropped her notebook, scattering for it before dropping her coffee.</p><p class="hLcpP">     Johnathan face palmed at his embarrassing assistant and glared at her. “Yes, like what miss chatterbox here said. Cheerio, everybody!”</p><p class="hLcpP">     “That’s what’s making everyone trying to get all hushed up,” Russel said. His thunder fist coming down onto the table and he rotated his head in great speed until his eyes locked onto his backpack. “I got a mission, see ya.” He booked out, his feet rambling on and Del influencing his mind. Russel slammed the door out of quick impulse and poor control.</p><p class="hLcpP">     “He sure wants to win,” Murdoc commented, seeing Stuart’s eyes shift. <br/>     “I fink I like winnin,” the blue-haired boy seemed to agree with the poor control. “I’m joinin’ da war.” Stuart slid off the chair and grabbed his piggy bank and undid the cork, pouring out some cents. The boy skipped off towards the door only to look back. “Coming?”</p><p class="hLcpP">     “Y-yeah,” Murdoc stared at him up and down. The kid’s best running shoes were on, clean jeans, a nice jacket, and neat hair. “I might steal one though.”</p><p class="hLcpP">     “Master,” Cyborg grabbed his turtleneck. “You don’t have to steal one with your bare hands. Use your brain.”</p><p class="hLcpP">     His lips curled into a smile as he did some thinking. He can steal one, alright. Steal one with a click of a mouse and some keys. Murdoc was a brain in computers and anything electrical, instead of stealing a treat with his hands, he can steal it with his computer at home. Why, this big sister figure can really give him great advice and she just reminded him to think it all through. His superior brain would make a great achievement at snatching a ticket. However, he would need to figure out a good strategy, but what would he need to get that ticket? <br/>     “I’m coming, Stu,” he spoke. “I have an idea and it involves getting a ticket-less treat and my computer.”</p><p class="hLcpP">     “But—“</p><p class="hLcpP">     “Cyborg, you go home and bring Noodle with you,” Murdoc warned. “If Papa threatens you, you have the feature to give him a zap and run into the basement. Stuart and I are just gonna go buy chocolate bars and I’ll be back home.”</p><p class="hLcpP">     “Okay,” Cyborg looked at her baby sister and picked her up. “Alright, it’s time to go home, imotou-chan.”</p><p class="hLcpP">     “Iie, iie!” Noodle began fussing, not wanting to leave her cartoons.</p><p class="hLcpP">     “We can watch Cartoon Network at home,” Cyborg shushed. “After all, I have a cable system built in me.”</p><p class="hLcpP">     “Well?” Stu crossed his arms. <br/>     “Yes,” Murdoc turned. “Let’s go, hun.”</p><p class="hLcpP">     “Did yew juss call me ‘hun’?” the singer questioned.</p><p class="hLcpP">     Murdoc slapped the back of his head and grabbed his collar. “Sierra tu pinché boca, gringo..”<br/>     The pair walked into the local shop and Murdoc couldn’t help but hold Stu’s tiny hand.</p><p class="hLcpP">     “Two Evangelical Mallow Delights, please,” Stu chipped in two dollars. “Oi, an’ keep da change.”</p><p class="hLcpP">     The shopkeeper was a jolly fat man with beady eyes and a big cherry nose. He reached over the shelf behind him to grab two red wrapped bars, presenting them to the boys and looked over them. His nose wrinkled at the two holding hands and he shook his head. <br/>     “Oi, you two are fags?” he arrogantly slammed the bars on the counter. “Children these days...”</p><p class="hLcpP">     “N-no!” Murdoc released his own hand from Stu’s grasp. “We’re just friends, fuckin tosser!”</p><p class="hLcpP">     Stuart snatched the bars angrily and flipped the bird at the homophobic man. “Mind yo’ fuckin business!”</p><p class="hLcpP">     Murdoc stomped out, looking at his feet and fuming to himself with Stu running behind him, holding the bars. <br/>     “Murdoc!” Stu called. “I thought we liked each ovah’! Murdoc!”<br/><br/></p><p class="hLcpP">     The goth turned and grabbed the bar he needed. “I’m going home to work on my plans, my friend.”</p><p class="hLcpP">     “Alright,” Stuart dropped his head and slowly walked to his own home while Murdoc ran down the sidewalk the other direction.</p><p class="hLcpP">     When Murdoc got home, he saw a broke vase, torn wallpaper, his father lying unconscious and fried on the ground, and a broken basement door. He raced down the basement to see Cyborg and Noodle hugging each other in horror in the corner.<br/>     “What happened?!” Murdoc sobbed, trying to calm down his hysterical sisters. <br/>     “Sebastian was on top of me when I got home!” Cyborg wheezed. “I almost threw Noodle when he pinned me to the ground and he got... close. I zapped him like my system was telling me to do and I think I injured him badly. I grabbed Noodle and ran down here while he tried to go after me. I...I...”</p><p class="hLcpP">     “Seems to me you used self-defense like I programmed you to do,” Murdoc brushed her hair. “Why is the door damaged?”</p><p class="hLcpP">     “Like I said,” she quivered her lips, “he tried to go after me when I locked the door and he broke through it. I zapped him once more and he was unconscious afterwards. I threw him out and hid here in case.”</p><p class="hLcpP">     “I should implement some fatal features another time,” Murdoc whispered to her and made his way to his computer, logging in and opening his main coding software, <span class="u">Bananack</span>. He opened the new bar carefully and parted his treat for the girls. “Eat this,” he passed, “my treat and you girls need some comfort.”</p><p class="hLcpP">     The satanist examined the manufacturing dates of the new bar and typed it into his software, leading him to an archive tab and a mighty list of shipped out packages. He scrolled through and found a compromising file called, “Gold C”. The bass kid clicked the file and looked through it then snapped his fingers. “Cyborg, please give me my pack of cigarettes.” The robot saluted and gave him said ciggies. He lit one and typed violently into his computer to find out the location of the package. <br/>     “It looks like it’ll go to Japan, but the package is still here in the city,” Cyborg looked over the file as smoke was entering her nostrils. <br/>     “Not for long,” Murdoc confirmed as he changed the location to his house. “I’ll be able to get that fucking ticket soon and be unstoppable! Or maybe...” he gave the file one more look and clicked on the right treat, a bag of chocolate balls that had the correct ticket in it. “Don’t want a whole crate at my door again! Hahaha!” <br/>     “Murdoc, don’t smoke that much, please,” Cyborg pulled away the pack. “You know it’s a bad habit your dad has.”</p><p class="hLcpP">     “I’m trying to quit!” Murdoc slammed his fists into his table. “Why did I design an adolescent big sister?” He put out the cancer stick and closed his computer. “I’m going to bed for the night since my work is complete. Use your cell phone to call me during lunch tomorrow.”</p><p class="hLcpP">     “I can’t,” Cyborg shrugged her shoulders. <br/>     “What do you mean you can’t?” Murdoc firmly demanded.</p><p class="hLcpP">     “My phone service is canceled since Hannibal couldn’t pay for this month’s amount of minutes,” Cyborg gave her Nokia phone to Murdoc. Suddenly, he presented her a walkie-talkie. <br/>      “Lucky that I have walkie-talkies lying around,” Murdoc let her take the device. “You’ll need it for a talk at lunch since I have a plan for all of us.”</p><p class="hLcpP">     “Thank you,” Cyborg hugged her creator. “Have a good night!”</p><p class="hLcpP">     As Murdoc made his way upstairs, he saw his father’s body and frowned. The boy picked up his feet and proceeded to drag him outside of the front door. “Enjoy your night, you old fuck.” The door became locked and he marched up the stairs to his room. “Oh, I’ll be a fuckin’ winner, alright. We will get what we need and make Gorillaz a success with her promotion.”</p><p class="hLcpP"> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Master’s Meeting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WARNING<br/>CONTAINS BULLYING, SMOKING, ALCOHOLISM, HOMOPHOBIA, AND UNDERAGE DRUG USE</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>      The alarm blurted through Murdoc’s tiny ears. This new rage had sent him to toss his bloody hatchet into the device, glitching the sound and eventually killing it. He started down the stairs while hearing continuous bangs on the front door, grinning at the anger of Sebastian Jacob. The child jumped at the sight in the kitchen. The Cyborg cooking oatmeal on the stove with baby Noodle happily drinking her morning milk. <br/>     “Just in time, Muds,” she set a bowl on the table. “I need to hurry and get Noodle to daycare.”</p><p>     “Don’t you have class later at 8:30 and not at 8:10?” Murdoc grumbled, starting at the oatmeal.</p><p>     “Yes,” said the motherly teen, “but I have to deal with that racist mum.”</p><p>     “Racist mum?” </p><p>     “It’s not important for you. Now eat up!”</p><p>     He forced himself through the oatmeal even though it wasn’t bad; however he hated oatmeal with all of his heart. The little boy was smiling at his wonderful plot and was absolutely ready to tell his pals all about it. He chuckled maniacally at the thought of beating that woman at her own game and getting attention for the band.</p><p>     “I’ll zap Sebastian on your way out so he wouldn’t hurt you,” Cyborg cleaned Noodle’s sticky face with a moist rag, chuckling at the baby. <br/>     The child hopped upstairs towards the bathroom and nabbed his toothbrush. He thought it would be better if he brushed his teeth since this was a big day, a big day to be boastful of. He spat the last throw into the sink and down went the water before he skipped to his books. Geography, pre-algebra, science, English, and social studies were the books needed for his day, but not as needed as his own notebook for they had his biggest ideas and recipes for his greatest inventions such as the cyborg he adored. His backpack was filled with his books as he placed his water bottle in it. Murdoc needed to be hydrated for his important speech. He gleefully raced down the steps and opened the door to such a terrifying sight. <br/>     “Listen here, you little—“</p><p>     <b><em>ZZZZTTT!!!</em></b></p><p>“Fuck off,” Murdoc swiftly ran towards the sidewalk, abandoning his frozen father, who’s body was shaking in response to the electric shock. “I guess it’s chicken and peas today for lunch. Perfect for my brain to process.”</p><p>     “Oi, Niccals!” a fat boy taunted at the bus stop. “You look good and that’s rare. Are you and that little twink gonna fuck today?”</p><p>     “What twink? Your dad?” Murdoc chortled along with other children.</p><p>     “No!” Tony scowled harshly, getting closer. “That stupid blue-headed freak! I heard his mouth does something new when we saw him running down that lane!”</p><p>     “At least he’s in shape and not a flabby monster like yourself,” Murdoc began to brush back, only to get pulled by the back of his uniform. <br/>     “Listen here! Now, listen clearly, boy!” hissed Tony. “Don’t make me break your fucking nose again like in year four!”</p><p>     “Do it,” Murdoc grinned, “it’ll prove that I’m not like you. A clogged brain like yours is inferior to my golden one. In fact, I bet I’ll win one of those golden tickets unlike you.”</p><p>     Suddenly, a dark hand tapped Tony’s shoulder. The boy turned around and shook to find an angry Russel, looking larger than his own bulk.</p><p>     “Put him down,” Russel firmly whispered, which prompted the fat boy to obey. “The bus is here. That means you have two choices. Either get in there and prepared to square up at the school’s square or run down the lane to school and not face me.”</p><p>     Tony’s knees wiggled from his own weight and fear, making eye contact with the black boy, and sprinting down the lane.</p><p>     “Thought so,” Russel huffed and nabbed Murdoc’s wrist, dragging him into the bus and tossing him into a seat.</p><p>     “Russ!” Murdoc stuttered.</p><p>     “I got something to show you,” he unzipped his book bag and pulled out a shiny object. <br/>     Murdoc’s eyes glittered at the unbelievably beautiful ticket. “F-for real?” Murdoc slurred.</p><p>     “The press are scheduled to my house after school for an interview!” Russel smiled excitedly. “It took me thirty-five pounds worth of chocolate products to get a single ticket!”</p><p>     Russel had rambled so much about his yearning for learning the Evangelist’s ways and her production methods, making Murdoc even more interested and wanting to share his plan; however his plan would have to wait for lunch.</p><p>     “Russ,” said Murdoc, “make sure you tell Stuart to meet up at the bush behind the building with me. Join us and bring your lunch. It’s really important.”</p><p>     “Aight,” Russel rolled his eyes. “Must be good.”</p><p>     Lunch rolled around and Murdoc waited behind the bush, eating his chicken and peas. He checked his watch and saw that it was quite early, so he was still patient. <br/>     “Oi!” a chipper voice bursted from behind, hands wrapping around his neck.<br/>     “Stu!” Murdoc scolded, gulpong down his food. “I could’ve choked, mate!”</p><p>     He looked up to see Stuart chewing something but seemed to have no tray.</p><p>     “What are you eating?” Murdoc inquired.</p><p>     “Oh,” Stu sat next to him. “I’m chewing gum since I hid my ticket. I heard Russel’s scared of his. I’m trying to calm myself down by chewing until I’m ready to reveal.”</p><p>     “How long have you’ve had your ticket?”</p><p>     “Just this morning when I opened my bar. I began chewing this since the morning run to school. Thought it would clear my mind.”</p><p>     Murdoc was surprised that Stuart was anxious about having an interview and he remembered Tony’s insult. <br/>     “Hey!” Russel ran towards the boys, trying not to drop his lunch tray. <br/>     “Oi, Russ!” Stuart waved and leaned on Murdoc, who continued to blush. <br/>     “Aight, spill the beans,” Russel told Murdoc with a mouthful of chicken. <br/>     Murdoc held up his index finger at Russel’s face and got out a walkie-talkie. “Cyborg, do you copy?”</p><p>     “Yes, master,” Cyborg answered in the other side. “Over.”</p><p>     He nodded and smiled at his band mates. “This is an opportunity for our album and good power. I can feel it.”</p><p>     </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. He’s My Big Boy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>     Russel gently stepped outside of the bus, feeling small jitters from the thought of his interview, a televised interview! He frantically turned to Murdoc, sweating heavily.  ”Is my face clean?” he gasped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ”Yes,” Murdoc rolled his eyes. ”You got this! This interview fits perfectly with the plan!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Russel’s heart became supplied with great armor, excitement, and determination from Murdoc’s encouraging words. ”Aight,” he took a deep breath, ”showtime, baby!” He proudly marched down the lane as it began to morph into a gold-paved street with candy cane telephone poles, creating an imaginary world of courage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ”Russel-baby!” a maternal voice cheered as her hand pulled him into his house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The house was flooded with cameramen, lights, technicians, and reporters. Trucks and vans were parked outside the abode. His anxiety awoke inside his head when Del whispered multiple ideas. He tried to kick those thoughts away, but Del was closer to having control. Then, a miracle happened, a ray of hope and an ounce of determination merged together and healed the wounds set by anxiety. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ”Johny, I’m in Capel!” the female assistant, Alice Maraschino announced gleefully. ”The town’s hero is a local hip-hop boy and three-time barbeque eating champion: Russel Hobbs!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The winner took tiny steps to his steps to his mother as cameras beamed on him. He felt like an animal locked in the zoo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ”Russel,” began Alice, ”how do you feel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ”Quite excited, ma’am,” Russel shyly said. ”Thank you for asking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ”Awww!” the crowd said as they took more pictures, motioning for the boy to look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ”How charming!” the assistant smiled and turned to Mrs. Hobbs. ”So, Mrs. Hobbs, how did the story of hope begin?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ”When I was just a girl,” accounted Mrs. Hobbs, ”I used to dream of a boy who would give me all of the love and joy in the world! We were wed and I soon began to bloom an angel. Oh, he came out so round and sweet. Indeed, he became my little sweet potato pie!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ”Yes,” Mr. Hobbs added, ”he was a big boy from the start and we raised him to enjoy life and appreciate good education.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The father gave his ”little” boy a small shove towards Alice. ”Go on, don’t be shy. Tell her everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ”Like my parents,” he huffed, ”I enjoy a healthy meal. I may seem rather flabby, but I’m made of steel on the inside.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ”We don’t leave my father’s pigs alone with him,” joked Mr. Hobbs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ”After purchasing thirty-five pounds worth of Evangelical chocolates, I decided to eat one bar. I tasted something strange and spat it out to see what it was. At that moment, I realized I struck gold!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ”Fascinating!” Alice clapped, ”Mr. Hobbs, how do you genuinely feel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ”I’m always proud of my son and I feel very proud of him at this moment!” Mr. Hobbs hugged his son. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Mrs. Hobbs dusted Russel’s drum set and looked back at the crowd caressing her son. She gasped and ran to his rescue. There was only one way to shoo these people off and she knew what it was for her son to be comfortable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ”It’s been a pleasure having y’all here,” she said sweetly. ”The tour is in a week and we must make preparations.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Meanwhile, the children of the Niccals household watched the television news in the basement on Cyborg’s bareback.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ”Your friend is looking pretty fluffy,” Hannibal laughed, blowing into his bong. ”His parents don’t seem to care about his unhealthy weight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ”He’s just Russel,” Murdoc growled softly. ”He’s Russel and there’s no way to change that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ”Yeah. Dad really got fried this morning. What did you do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ”Cyborg is the one who did it by choice, not by my commands.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Hannibal put down his bong and stumbled up the stairs. ”I heard another interview is going on tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ”What?” Murdoc ran to his chair and typed into the BBC’s website. Their schedule had ”Paula Cracker” for a press conference at five o'clock! Paula?! She found the second ticket?! Where was his ticket? He checked his package to discover his hack from last time was unsuccessful and the ticket was in Dublin! He slammed his fists into the keyboard and he was ready for his last resort, his Leviathan Virus. The boy gritted his teeth as he typed violently into Bananack. His cigarettes we're in demand and he lit one by one with rage. Sure, the Evangelist has a strong system and got over his hack the first time, but she was no match for Murdoc’s superior skills. His previous two packs were used up in the first hour of programming and he ordered his Ritalin to give him assistance. It all came to an end when he finally sent his virus to her computers. If he can’t get that ticket, no one can! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ”Mādokku-San!” a little Noodle uttered. ”Komoriuta?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The Cyborg sister picked up the two-year-old toddler. ”Iie, Nūdoru, ” she whispered. ”Mādokku wa nemuidesu.” She kissed Murdoc’s cheek, but not as a lover. ”Goodnight, little brother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The master shifted from his chair and gave his sisters each a kiss. ”Tomorrow will be another day.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. What Paula Says, Goes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>     ”Come on, Stu!” Murdoc pestered. ”Russel got over his fears. Your interview won’t even be bad!”<br/>     Stuart chewed aggressively and proceeded to shake his head. ”No way, no ’ow!”<br/>     Murdoc looked at the boy, who blew an enormous bubble and watched it pop. ”Isn’t that the same gum for the last three days?” <br/>     The blue-haired boy stayed silent for about ten seconds before stuttering. ”Y-yeah? At mealtimes, I stick it behind me ear.”<br/>     The bassist cringed a bit. <em>Oh no, another addict. </em>”Take your time to reveal yourself,” he hugged his special one. ”Just try not to make the gum thing a habit.”</p><p>     ”I promise,” Stu held up his hand as a sign. He took one look at Murdoc’s pocket and snatched away the cigarette pack. ”It also goes fo’ yew.”</p><p>     ”Yeah, yeah,” Murdoc grumbled. ”I heard Paula found the ’second’ damn ticket.” He placed his hands in his pockets, fidgeting around.</p><p>     Stu’s face cringed from hearing that wretched name. She was pure trouble since year three. She would always play around with the boys by messing with them and getting them into trouble. Little childish things like putting glue in their food, blame them for ripping up textbooks even though she did it, and write vulgar notes about the teachers. He cut back to the present to realize his fears can be stomped down with the click of his fingers. </p><p>     ”Al’ight, I’ll show dah gal somefink bout meself on live television,” Stu clenched his fists.</p><p>     “That’s the spirit!” Murdoc said. “I’m getting mine tomorrow since my virus worked.”</p><p>     Stuart wrapped his arms around Murdoc, cheeks touching. “We should ‘ave the conference in dah same day!”</p><p>     “Schedule yours first. Mine will be later!”</p><p>     “Deal!” Stuart kisses Mudoc’s cheek. <br/>     The Cyborg perked up, swishing her head to the left and turned on the TV. “Boys,” she shushed. “The news.”</p><p>     “Hannibal! Another ticket!” Murdoc shouted when his older brother scurried down the basement stairs. He held his plate of strange brownies and a glass of milk.</p><p>     “I told your arse!” Hannibal giddily said, trying not to drop his milk or brownies. His face twisted when he saw a head of blue hair and a hand fusing with Murdoc’s. The brother just grinned and sat down, finishing his first brownie and quietly snickering at the scene.</p><p>     “I’m in Burstow, Johnny!” Alice Maraschino said, stepping into a comfy house. “Our winner is ten, loves ballet, and is the daughter of a businessman! He may not be Bill Gates rich, but he sure does know how to make money!”</p><p>     “Ever since the message was sent out,” Mr. Cracker spoke, “my Paula was quite excited and showed a keen interest in the contest.”</p><p>     “Finally, it’s all mine!” Paula giggles, waving her ticket around and twirled. <br/>      Mrs. Cracker was at the dining table, sipping out of her wine glass and holding her head. She refilled her glass once more only to pour it down her throat. The woman licked her lips and looked at her happy daughter and husband. “Dear, go get me some more wine from the wine closet,” she requested.</p><p>     “Yes, in a minute,” her husband responded. “So I had my workers to stay in the warehouse and strip the bars from their wrappers. Paula was getting antsy, but I appeased her with her wish once I got her ticket from my receptionist.”</p><p>     “She was shouting for days,” Mrs. Cracker slurred her words, “it gave me a grave headache.”</p><p>     Hannibal scoffed at the TV and drank down his glass of milk. “That bitch needs a good arse-kicking. How can her parents do this and be totally fine with the way she is?”</p><p>     “Agreed,” Murdoc said. “I’m getting mine tomorrow at night or the day after tomorrow. I had to use all of my brain’s energy to get that ticket.”</p><p>     “Wait, your hack worked?!”</p><p>     “Second attempt did the job.”</p><p>     Stuart scooted closer to his love, bouncing slightly from his little hops. His hand hung at Murdoc’s shoulder, making the boy blush slightly.</p><p>     “Mmm, bluebird?” <br/>     Hannibal began to laugh and wheeze at the scene, some brownie crumbs spraying from his mouth. “Muds and Stuie sittin’ in a tree, K-I-I-S-S-I-N-G!”</p><p>     “Oi, stop!” Murdoc demanded, glaring at his brother. He turned to Stuart, who was nuzzling like usual. He squeezed his wrist and removed it form his shoulder.</p><p>     “Muds! Not so ‘ard!”Stu begged. “Let go of me wrist!” The wrist was pulled away and slightly red, having Murdoc’s hand marks around it. “What dah fuck, Muds?!”</p><p>     “S-Stu,” Murdoc hugged his lover. “I didn’t mean to. I just got angry.”</p><p>     Stuart pulled out a gameboy from his backpack and handed it to Murdoc. His eyes trailed up and made contact with Murdoc’s neck. His face touching the bassist’s shoulder and warm skin touching his cheek was all Murdoc needed. <br/>     “What’s this for?” Murdoc asked.</p><p>     “A li’l gift and somefink to not ‘frow suspicion durin’ dah tour. Call me at me house la’ah.”</p><p>     The boy blew his bubble and collected his stuff, climbing up the stairs, and out the door. His comforting presence was gone with his scent of peppermints and cookies. <br/>     “I don’t really care who you date,” Hannibal said, smoking a blunt. “Just as long as you’re happy, I’m okay with it, but don’t let Dad find out since he would hate you more than ever.”</p><p>     This whole basement was cold, pretty welcoming, but it was the only place Sebastian could’ve reach or break into. The yawn of the infant and singing of the Cyborg sister was a sound Murdoc loved. Knowing that his baby sister was healthy and loved properly was enough to make Murdoc happy since he was starved of love and a childhood. He had to grow up quick to find ways to provide even better since Hannibal wouldn’t be around forever. This tour would probably jump the group into stardom and give little Noodle everything she needed and wanted. Everyone who wronged them would be shocked at the band’s success at toppling the Evangelist herself. <br/>     “I guess we should tell her how much we love her,” Cyborg suggested. “Any luck in money?”</p><p>     “Not much to buy her a new set of blocks,” Murdoc responded, kissing his sister. “But my plan would get us into fame and Noodle won’t have to live here for so long.”</p><p>     “I hope it works. We can all have good chances if we are all careful and make good choices. She may set up some things.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Pot’s Claim to Fame</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WARNING: MENTION OF ABUSE</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>     Stuart sat at the table on that Saturday afternoon, eating his grilled cheese sandwich. He looked at his mother, who was washing some dishes with joy on her mind. The winner puffed up his face, breathing in and out, and stood up from his chair. He exhaled deeply, feeling courage and pride starting to build in his little throat. His Adam’s Apple bobbing with each thought of his speech. He clearer his throat quietly.</p><p>     “Movah,” he reached into his back pocket, gaining the mother’s attention. “I ‘ave somefink to show yew.” <br/>     The golden shimmer emerged from his pocket and into his hand as he held a card tightly. Rachel, his mother, ran to him in shock, gently grabbing the ticket from his tiny hands. She turned it around and read the message. She looked at her son, then back at the ticket, examining both in constant speed as her world slowed down. She picked up her son and threw him up and down like when he was a baby, cheering and loudly praising him. <br/>     “I’m calling the press and my friends!” Rachel shuffled to the household landline, dialing multiple numbers. <br/>     The keyboard enthusiast smiled at the amount of love and pride his mother had in him. He would surely be the talk of the town for this. His fear crumbled and transformed into slight cockiness and a bit of vanity. Maybe he was mummy’s little star, but he needed to put on big boy pants to really become a star. He can help the band to have a better audience with their new album without a record label. However, Stuart needed a title for his new persona. He snapped his fingers, he at last found a perfect stage name! The Double Bubble Duchess! <br/>     “Martha is thinking about getting you a magazine shoot in London!” Rachel patted his head. “You and your little group might become famous!”</p><p>     “Me new stage name is Double Bubble Duchess!” Stuart happily announced.</p><p>     “Seems a little feminine, but it suits you well. I’ve noticed you’ve been chewing gum for days for some reason.”</p><p>     <br/>     Murdoc’s cell phone rang on the table while he was playing with little Noodle. He gently placed the toddler down as she quieted down. His hand reached for the phone and flipped it open. The screen read “Stuie”. Murdoc frantically pressed “talk” and wiped the sweat from his brows. “E-ello?” he stuttered, waiting for the good news Little Stuart had for his beloved. <br/>     “We’re gonna be famous!” Stuart shouted, bouncing in the sofa chair. <br/>     Murdoc fell out of his chair with disbelief, nervously getting back up. “There’s a parade outside for me and my victory!”</p><p>     “I bet yo ol’ man is mad as hell!”</p><p>     “You bet he is!” He pressed his little hands on the window, watching people hold signs, congratulating Murdoc and treating him like a human this time. The feeling of respect transferred to his head. These people spited him and would threaten him everyday, but not today. Sebastian stomped around, yelling at the people marching by his house. <br/>     “I see dah BBC’s vans an’ trucks outside me place,” Stuart whispered. “I got to go.”</p><p>     Murdoc hung up and ran upstairs to the living room, turning on the TV despite Sebastian’s scornful voice. Sure enough, the BBC was on air and just inside the comfortable large house. The Crawley house presented the mother with her friends and her husband sitting on the white couch. The friends of the mother were helping her with her hair and makeup, powdering her face, and spraying some hairspray. It looked like a celebrity family getting ready for their own sitcom or reality show. <br/>     “Johnny, I’m in Crawley!” Alice Maraschino smiled. “Where rock ń roll luck has landed in the lap of local musical boy and fresh gum celebrity, Stuart Pot. Here’s his father. Mr. Pot, would you like to make a statement?”</p><p>     David grinned wildly and snatched the microphone from the reporter, getting up and removing his sunglasses. “As a matter of fact, Alice, I would! We’re proud parents of a little rockstar with a million-dollar jaw! He’s the Double Bubble Duchess and my son.”</p><p>     The door busted open to show Stuart strutting into the scene, sporting a cocky smile. His choice of clothing was an adorable navy blue leather jacket, his little black boots, simple jeans, and a Clash T-shirt. He adjusted his punk belt, brushed back his hair with a comb, and tossed it. His boots had thick platforms, making little <em>clinks</em> and <em>clanks</em> as he walked like a fashion model on a catwalk. Of course, he was chewing gum and blowing bubbles, flexing his jaw’s skills with all his might and pride.</p><p>     “Ello, ma’am,” he greeted, “I’m dah singah of Gorillaz. I play dah pianos, and I chew gum so well.”</p><p>     “Nice to meet you, sweetie,” Alice cooed, seeing his cute little rocker outfit. “How’s your music career?”</p><p>     “Befo’ dis very moment, our prized album wasn’t gettin’ much attention. Now we’re boomin’ ‘cause of me.”</p><p>    “I see you’re chewing gum. How did it start?”</p><p>     “Well, I began chewin’ fo’ a week now. Guess it’s part of me life now.”</p><p>     “His piano records are right on the wall,” David stepped back to show certificates and trophies along with his baby pictures. <br/>     “How did you get your ticket, Stuart?” Alice asked the child.</p><p>     “When I ‘eard bout it, I saw it as a war and joined,” Stuart popped his bubble. “I got a single one and dah cameras started flashin’. Guess I’m famous now.”</p><p>     Rachel stepped towards Alice and put on her usual sweet mother attitude. “We’re getting calls from a variety of networks, movie directors, television producers, and record labels this minute!” She grabbed her son and hugged him, almost smothering him. “I’m so proud!”</p><p>     “Movah!” Stuart whined, trying to free himself from her maternal grasp. “Yo’ embarrassin’ me!”</p><p>     “Ooh, yes,” Rachel said with glee. “We’ll film everything on the tour and we’ll hopefully walk out with a prize!”</p><p>     “What a goal!” Alice gasped at the proud family. “We must get going. Another winner called earlier for the later show. We’ll take our break at his house and film.”</p><p>  <br/>     Murdoc gave a round of applause at the TV, raising his arms in the air, making himself look like a Y. “Go, Stu!” he cheered.</p><p>     “That little urchin is bold,” Sebastian commented, shaking his head. “Too bold. How can a little sod like him get famous and pass off as entertainment these days? Seriously, becoming a star for chewing gum nonstop for a few days? Disgusting.”</p><p>     “Cállate!” Murdoc snarled. “He just has a habit. He’s truly talented. Didn’t you see his piano certificates? He can sing very well and he can even dance!”</p><p>     “You’re just exaggerating,” the father looked away from his son. “He’ll be in a sticky situation, you mark my words. Thanks to you and your wretched technology, those nosy bitches on their way.”</p><p>     Murdoc crosses his arms, disgusted at his father’s comments and attitude. <em>How dare he say shit about Stuart and those news people. </em>Obviously, his father knew nothing of this genius plot and he was going to show his father what he’s made of. All his life, him and Hannibal were used as puppets meant to deliver drugs, alcohol, and money to Sebastian. That son-of-a-bitch had no right to say such horrible things about these two, let alone abuse them to get what he wants. <br/>     “Murdoc,” Sebastian sternly warned. “They’re here.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Computer Boy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WARNING: CONTAINS CHILD ABUSE, CHILD SMOKING, DRUG USE, IMPLIED ALCOHOLISM, AND VIOLENCE.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>     Sebastian fixed his frown to a more “appropriate” facial expression to not alarm social workers. He took a deep breath to not grit his teeth as much. He looked at Hannibal, who’s eyes were bright red from smoking marijuana. He shook his head, thankful that the weed was nowhere to be seen. He opened the door. “Ello! Ello!” Sebastian waved at the press.</p><p>     “I’m in Burstow, Johnny! Just outside the house! Ooh! Good evening!” Alice beamed. “May we come inside?”</p><p>     “Yes, my good woman. You must be here to see my son. Right here is my eldest son from my first marriage. His name is Hannibal.”</p><p>     “What?” Hannibal turned his head. <br/>     “You must be here to talk to my bra— I mean...uhhh... child.”</p><p>     Alice cringed at the horrid smell of cigarettes, marijuana, and unwashed clothes. She thought she smelled feces in the air. The carpet was torn, the wallpaper peeled itself, and the sofas were covered in dirt. How could a poor child live in these conditions? Surely, this man’s chipper-sounding voice was fake and the child was definitely abused. <br/>     “Welcome to my lovely home. I placed some crackers and cheese fondue here. You’ll love my respectful little boy. He’d the uhh... hero of the good ol’ U of the K!” Murdoc marched into the kitchen, with his gameboy in hand. His eyes locked onto the press crowding in his home. The people surrounded him with microphones and cameras, asking questions frequently, leaving no room for the boy to breathe. <br/>     “Little Angel,” Sebastian gritted his teeth. “You have something to say?”</p><p>     “Si,” Murdoc chuckled. “Bang, bang! Yo tengo el pinche boleto en mis manos, putos! Yo, Capitán Murdoc tiene la potencia para hackeó! Esta es la vida, ahora muere!” Murdoc shot his gameboy as if it were a gun, causing silence and the adults to stare at him. Hannibal clapped in the corner, smiling at his half-brother’s spunk and seasoned statement. Sebastian pulled Murdoc to his side by the hair, glaring at him, and mouthing threats. He turned his face to the press, who were stunned at how he dragged his young son.</p><p>     “Hehehe,” Sebastian chuckled nervously and cleared his throat. “Murdoc’s just high-spirited. That’s what the doctor said! He’s a mini version of my elder son.”</p><p>     “What?” Hannibal asked again.</p><p>     “They said it was a phase when he shot the windows of Mrs. Sullivan. But the authorities requested limited outdoor time. I let him buy himself a computer, he sits there all night.” Sebastian made eye contact with the boy while going to his level and squeezing his wrists, trying to restrain him in case he tried something. “However, things got worse when he hacked the donut shop. Son, tell them what you told the owner?”</p><p>     “Bang! Bang! El gordito es estupido!” Murdoc shouted. “Yo, Capitán Murdoc robé los bienes! Solo tuve que comprar un chocolate! Esta es la vida, ahora muere!” The child freed himself from his dad’s restraint. <br/>     “Tell em, Muds!” Hannibal encouraged raising a fist.</p><p>     “It was just a childish prank when he stole that Camaro,” Sebastian perspired heavily, fearing his son would try something. “At least he modified it. But I nevER WISHED THAT I HAD A DAUGHTER! Medication sets me free! Every night I pour two-hundred shots of FATHER WATER!” Sebastian looked at the disgusted and confused people. “It’s been a pleasure to have you here. Don’t be scared. He’s just an innocent little boy. It’s an everyday struggle when I hide my cigarettes. He only steals two packs a day from me now.”</p><p>     Murdoc takes out a cigarette as the press people gasp. His young face holding a cigarette? <br/>     “Oh, God!” Franklin pointed. “This child is smoking at our very eyes! How old is he?!”</p><p>     “He’s twelve, about to be thirteen,” Hannibal took out his bong. ”He’s been smoking since seven. Runs in the family.”</p><p>     Alice was stunned at the family. This is no example for a child to be in. This family consisted of an abusive alcoholic father and a supportive albeit stoner half-brother. This poor boy needed a loving family, but who would want a brown-skinned jumping bean with serious anger issues and addictions?</p><p>     “Bang! Bang!” Murdoc jumped, dancing and spinning around. “Voy a ganar fama! Yo, Capitán Murdoc es inteligente y superior! Esta es la vida, ahora muerer!”</p><p>     Sebastian grabbed Murdoc and covered his mouth. “That’s enough out of you,” he whispered into his ear. He looked up at Alice, who was opening the door. “Thanks for coming! Okay, shoo! Go on! Out! Hit the road! Shoo!!”</p><p>     The people booked out of the door with Alice dialing a number on her cellphone. </p><p>     </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Escape to the Alleys and Luck</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WARNING: CONTAINS ABUSE, SHOOTING, AND CRYING BABY NOODLE</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>     The glass cracked, and bodies fell. Murdoc’s face was decorated with blood, bruises, and a chipped tooth. A few strands of hair were wilted on the ground beside him. Sebastian restrained his son with coarse rope and breathed heavily and wiped the sweat from his wrinkled forehead. Hannibal couldn’t help since he was passed out with blood staining his hair. A broken beer bottle was beside him and was lonesome, hoping another would join. Sebastian shifted his focus towards the Cyborg, who was cradling her sobbing baby sister.</p><p>     “Doko ka ni itte!” Cyborg warned, loading her mouth with a rubber bullet as she slowly opened her mouth. Her head tilted to aim at the left leg and shot, sending the drunkard to the floor. </p><p>     “You...bitch,” he seethed. </p><p>     Cyborg switched to a tranquilizer dart and shot at Sebastian’s shoulder. She scooped Noodle and tore the front door open, fleeing the house.</p><p>     Murdoc’s eyes spat with tears as he slipped into his pocket for his knife. Yes! He cut the rope, freeing himself. The child bassist glared at his sleeping father, and nabbed his hair. The body was dragged into the street like usual. </p><p>     “Just hope she doesn’t find you here,” he whispered, “or that you don’t see her, cunt.”</p><p> </p><p>     Cyborg stopped behind a dumpster, examining Noodle for any wounds to clean up. Fortunately for Sebastian, Noodle didn’t even have a single scratch. </p><p>     “Maadoku-San wa doko desuka?” the infant sniffed. “Ie ni kaeritai.”</p><p>     “Iie, Nuudoru,” the robot shook her head. “Koko de nete imasu.”</p><p>     Suddenly, her walkie-talkie crackled on, a voice emerging from the device.</p><p>     “Moshi-Moshi?” Cyborg asked, hoping Murdoc was okay.</p><p>     “Cy,” the assuring voice picked up. “Where are you?”</p><p>     “By a dumpster. It’s late.”</p><p>      “I threw the dullard out. Don’t come home tonight.”</p><p>     Cyborg chuckled, bringing Noodle closer.</p><p>      “Konja wa nagareboshi ga mieru kamo shiremasen,” Cyborg told Noodle. “Negaigoto o suru.”</p><p>     “Negai o muda ni shinaide,” Noodle roller to the right, away from her older sister.</p><p>     “Nuudoru... maybe a song?”</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Ani ga koko ni itara,</p>
  <p>”Kaseidesu!”,</p>
  <p>Kare wa hoshi o bindzume suru,</p>
  <p>Ha o migaki nasai,</p>
  <p>Aa, kyoudai ga koko ni itara...</p>
</blockquote><p>     “Cy,” Murdoc interrupted. “How’s Noodle?”</p><p>     “Not good,” the teen responses. “Any ideas?”</p><p>     “Let me sing to her. See you tomorrow.”</p><p>     Cyborg brought the device closer to Noodle.</p><p>     “Evening, Noodz! Let’s have another review of that notebook of yours! I want to hear about everything you’re learning at the daycare centere!”</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>If your sister were here,</p>
  <p>You would not be in bed,</p>
  <p>You’d be acting out the stories,</p>
  <p>From the books that you’ve read,</p>
  <p>She’d be walking the plank,</p>
  <p>Of Noodle Balcony,</p>
  <p>You’d be sailing if your sister were here.</p>
</blockquote><p>     Noodle’s eyes were trying to fall asleep and Cyborg whispered for Murdoc to sing with her.</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>If wishes were horses,</p>
  <p>We would gallop away,</p>
  <p>If cigarettes were watches,</p>
  <p>I would know the time all day,</p>
  <p>All we can offer you,</p>
  <p>Are dreams in every size,</p>
  <p>So close your eyes, Little Noodle,</p>
  <p>Close your eyes.</p>
</blockquote><p>     “Looks like she’s asleep,” Cyborg said into the walkie-talkie. “Any luck with Hannibal?”</p><p>     “He’s fine,” Murdoc responded. “It’s cold outside and probably in the alleys, too.”</p><p>     “Oh, we’ll manage.”</p><p>     “I’m glad she has you.”</p><p>     “I’m equally glad she has you, too. I’ll come home tomorrow.”</p><p>     The girl activated her external heating to give her toddler warmth, but it immediately gave out.</p><p>     “Looks like I’ll need a tuneup, eh? Maybe a new blanket for you while I’m at it.”</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Ani ga koko ni itarai,</p>
  <p>”Koze o hiite”,</p>
  <p>Haru o tsurete kimasu,</p>
  <p>Anata wa totemo hayaku seichou,</p>
  <p>Arigatou, kyoudai.</p>
  <p>     “If you won’t make a wish,” Cyborg softly said, “then I will... for you.”</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>     “Miss!” a man’s voice called into Cyborg’s ears. “Miss! Your baby’s got money!”</p><p>      Cyborg lazily opened her eyes to see a homeless man. She jumped back when Noodle waved a single pound note in her face, giggling. <br/>     “Ah! She could buy a bar!” Cyborg picked up her sister.</p><p>     “Hai! Hai! Choko!” Noodle threw her hands up.</p><p>      Cyborg walked into the street, looking for a shop, but none were open this morning. <br/>      “Chocolate!” an elderly woman yelled, walking with a woven basket in her arms. “Give you diabetes, high cholesterol, and heart attacks! Get your Evangelical Chocolate for fifty pence!”</p><p>      Cyborg raced towards the woman, handing over the pound note. “One fudge-mallow Evangelical Bar, please.”</p><p>      “Have a nice day,” the woman handed it to Cyborg, who handed it to Noodle.</p><p>      Noodle slowly opened the bar, seeing a glow as she peeled even further. It all came clear soon.</p><p>     “Na-nan?” the toddler stuttered with her sister in shock as well. <br/>     “We gotta get outta here,” Cyborg looked at the gawking crowd. Many began to step closer to the two. The girl bolted down the street with a mob following after them, trying to steal the ticket from Noodle. The bot looked around and quickly hid in a cardboard box near another dumpster. ”Only few days since Murdoc got his ticket with Stu’s and tomorrow’s the day. You won.”</p><p>     “Johnny, I’m at an alley in Horsham!” Alice shouted, her crew growing near the box. “Many reports of two Japanese girls hiding here. Rumors say that the toddler won the very last ticket. Come on out, dearies!”</p><p>      Noodle crawled out of the box with the ticket in her hand, waving it, and giggled. Franklin picked her up as he saw an older girl crawl out.</p><p>     “Is she your sister?” Franklin asked. “You don’t live here, don’t you?”</p><p>     “I live with Murdoc,” Cyborg corrected and dusted off her clothes. “We had to leave for a bit last night. It was a long journey from there to here.”</p><p>     “How did you get your ticket?” Alice asked.</p><p>     “We bought a bar from the elderly lady down the road.”</p><p>     “Interesting,” Alice responded. “You two must head home now.”</p><p>     “We will,” Cyborg picked up Noodle from Franklin, who made eye contact with her. He saw an abnormal eye, the red laser eye, scanning him. She broke contact by running to the bus stop with a lucky bus about to leave the bench. “Take me to Burstow, please.”</p><p>     “Only ten pence,” the driver responded, pointing at the jar.</p><p>     Noodle flashed a coin and placed it in the big hand and they took their seat, looking at the window as the bus’s doors closed, taking them to their home. Time to make preparations and Murdoc’s talk about the plot and follow his steps carefully as possible. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The Big Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>     The Evangelical Factory in Brighton was surrounded by citizens, tourists, news people, and fellow musicians. Cameras clicked at the great silver building and its heavenly gates. The factory was a welcome for children and its gates gave off God’s love and warmth for them. Soon enough, the winners and their parents will be at the factory in time, 11:30 to be precise. Breakfast of choice would be a plateful of flapjacks and bacon for Russel, premium omelettes for Paula, Trix cereal for Stuart, oatmeal for Murdoc, and morning milk for Noodle.</p><p>     “Beautiful day,” Johnathan took a deep inhale. “Fresh air today.”</p><p>     “Oi, keep me good on the shots,”Franklin adjusted his camera. <br/>     “We’re about to witness five little angels enter candy heaven,” Alice Maraschino stepped onto the red carpet. <br/>     “Ooh! The first child! Russel Hobbs!” Franklin pointed, taking numerous pictures of the boy and his mom.</p><p>     The boy wore a red sweater with his white pants and white loafers. His mom, Grace, wore her red and black tartan coat and a long black skirt with her black pumps. She had a brown pocketbook with gold handles. <br/>     “What are your thoughts on this glorious day, Russel?” Alice asked.</p><p>     Russel gawked at the camera and heard Del’s whispers cloud his mind. Like in his interview, he managed to ignore them and answer. “I-I’m quite happy for this day to spend with my momma and my friends.” He slowly stepped back and hid behind his mom.</p><p>     “Awww,” Alice cooed, “he’s still a bit shy. Oh! A Mercedes Benz is coming this way! This child must be Paula Cracker! Paula, got anything to say?”</p><p>     “Mine, all mine!” Paula leaped and danced, showing off her brand new clothes with her father following her. Her clothes consisted of a pink mink, gray dress, pink shoes, and a French barrette. She pulled up her small white gloves for a classier and modest look.</p><p>     “She might be a shoe-in for the run!”</p><p>     “Alice! I can’t tell who’s next! There’s a crowd of...women?” Johnathan said.</p><p>     “They’re not all women, Johnny. It’s an entourage! It means this little boy must be...”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>The Double Bubble Duchess!</p>
  <p>That’s his sticky claim to fame,</p>
  <p>He’s always on the bubble,</p>
  <p>So file it,</p>
  <p>Stuart Pot is the name!</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>     “Stuart! Do you have anything to say to your fans?”</p><p>     The child star twirled and landed in a split, popping his gum. He sported his blue and white tracksuit with a little white shirt underneath and white tennis shoes. He slipped off his sky blue boa and tossed it to a group of eight-year-old girls.<br/>     “Isn’t he just charming?” Rachel, his mother, boasted. She wore a purple fur jacket, and a black dress underneath with white heels. </p><p>     Just as she announced, gun shots were heard and the entourage fled to a safer area. Some balls were shooting in the air as Alice caught one and examined it.</p><p>     “Al! Take for cover! It’s an attack!” Franklin shouted.</p><p>     “They’re not bullets,” Alice said, eating the ball. “They’re chocolate balls. It must be the pint-sized genius and his robot! Murdoc Niccals! Murdoc, any comments?”</p><p>     “Be nice, now,” Sebastian warned.</p><p>     “Evangelist’s security system is weak!” Murdoc yelled. “¡Yo, Capitán Murdoc es el carbón mas importante y inteligente!”<br/>     Cyborg closed her mouth when Murdoc rose his hand as a signal. Murdoc wore a black sleeveless turtle neck over a red and black striped long-sleeved shirt, dark jeans, and his silver Cuban heeled boots. Cyborg wore a blue blouse, jean shorts, gray sneakers, and a baby carrier holding Noodle. Noodle wore a green jacket over a mint colored onesie. <br/>     Sebastian lit up his cigarette. He wore his usual clothes, a black suit and his hat. “Come on,” he said as he dragged Murdoc by the hair. <br/>     “Oh! Little Noodle!” Alice bent to Cyborg’s chest level where Noodle was. “How do you feel, little one?”</p><p>     “Uhh— genki desu ka?” Noodle babbled. “Mmm— sumimasen!”</p><p>     “The little poppet can’t speak English, but she sure is a peach!” Johnathan’s eyes glimmered.<br/><br/></p><p>     “Shut it, Johnny,” Alice said, looking at the clock before a peal of bells rang. “It’s time.”</p><p>     The throng of people fell silent as the clock stroke 11:30 a.m. There was no tour lady and the gates didn’t open... yet. They felt a phantom’s presence approach them as the gates opened up on their own along with the factory door. Everyone froze when they saw the ghost stood in front of the lit door. A voice emanated from it, a feminine voice.</p><p>     “Ladies and gentlemen,” she said. “My shadow humbly welcomes you.” She took one step down the stairs.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Beyond this door’s a factory,</p>
  <p>Began from just a bean,</p>
  <p>Beyond this door’s surprises in stock,</p>
  <p>But it must believed to seen,</p>
</blockquote><p>     The lady ran beyond her gates and onto the red carpet. Her clothing was a large sea-green suit with a large black top hat with a few flowers on it. She had pearls on her skirt and fishnet pantyhose with white boots. She had black lace gloves to match her fancy suit. Her face was hidden with a mint-green scarf and her top hat.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Beyond this door’s invention,</p>
  <p>Where mind meets with machine,</p>
  <p>Beyond these gates,</p>
  <p>Astonishment waits,</p>
  <p>But it must be believed to be seen,</p>
  <p>No magic spells or potions,</p>
  <p>Forswear legerdemain,</p>
  <p>My kingdom’s creates from notions,</p>
  <p>All swirling inside my brain,</p>
  <p>Beyond this door’s a banquet,</p>
  <p>Of Heaven-made cuisine,</p>
  <p>A lucky few,</p>
  <p>Will get to pass through,</p>
  <p>But it must be believed to be seen,</p>
  <p>     The crowd of newspapermen and the guests began swarming around the singing woman. The news people tried to get perfect pictures of her.</p>
  <p>Beyond this door is music,</p>
  <p>Come and dance betwixt and between,</p>
  <p>Beyond this waltz,</p>
  <p>Is a world without faults,</p>
  <p>But it must be believed to be seen,</p>
  <p>Beyond this door’s a puzzle,</p>
  <p>You’ll find out what I mean,</p>
  <p>Beyond this gate,</p>
  <p>Is the world I create,</p>
  <p>But it must be believed to be seen,</p>
</blockquote><p>     The Evangelist walked to the center of the carpet, but much slower as if her energy was being drained by her emotions.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Despite the lady seem at these doors,</p>
  <p>Your childhood homes were all bland,</p>
  <p>But I knew how to look to find,</p>
  <p>A world that wasn’t colorblind,</p>
  <p>Let’s hope that you’re a bit like me,</p>
  <p>As you walk through my factory,</p>
  <p>For in the end there’s quite a prize,</p>
  <p>If you can see with,</p>
  <p>With more than eyes!</p>
</blockquote><p>     The factory lights suddenly all lit up and the Evangelist ran toward her door with her energy pumped back up like gas refilling a car.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Your life’s about to change now,</p>
  <p>So don’t get left behind,</p>
  <p>Do things appear quite strange now?</p>
  <p>Imagine the wonders you’ll find,</p>
  <p>Beyond this door is chocolate!</p>
  <p>So tasty, it’s obscene!</p>
  <p>So follow me,</p>
  <p>For I guarantee,</p>
  <p>That this world I’ve conceived,</p>
  <p>And all I’ve achieve,</p>
  <p>It must be believed to be seen!</p>
</blockquote><p>     “Golden Ticket winners!” Evangelist called, all guests following her. “Hobbs, Niccals, Pot, Cracker... unknown. Do come in.”</p><p>     </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Silly Rhythm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>     Inside was pitch black and Russel began breathing heavily, scared that Del would influence him again or accidentally trip over his friends. He held tight onto his mom’s skirt for comfort and didn’t let go until the lights turned on. The corridor was a lobby with pink walls and a row of chairs that seemed to match the personalities of the children. There was a sea green wooden desk on the left side of the room with a piece of paper and ink. The guide sat at the desk and looked at her watch.</p><p>     “Goodness,” she squeaked, “is that the time?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Our schedule has no room for intros, <br/>Languid and rubato, <br/>Accelerate right to the verse,<br/>And play it molto presto and staccato!</p>
</blockquote><p>     The children ran into the chairs. Murdoc crawled into the black steel chair, Paula in the red throne, Stu in the blue throne, Russel in a simple orange chair, and Noodle in the small plastic yellow one.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>What zigzag roads and fickle fates,<br/>Have led you to my chocolate gates?<br/>I’m sure the stories would enthrall,<br/>But time is racing by us all,<br/>I’d love to rhyme a riddle or two,<br/>But there’s so much time, so little to do…<br/>“So much time, so little to do…”?<br/>Please, strike that! Reverse it!<br/>I meant the other way, <br/>It doesn’t take a Sigmund Freud,<br/>To see I’m charmed and overjoyed,<br/>But pardon if I start to fret,<br/>We’ve not begun our journey yet,<br/>No time to borrow or delay,<br/>What’s here tomorrow’s gone today…<br/>“What’s here tomorrow’s gone today…”?<br/>Whoops, strike that! Reverse it!<br/>My tongue has feet of clay, </p>
  <p>You’ve bid the tasteless world adieu,<br/>To chew the goo awaiting you,<br/>But scurry for the little clock keeps ticking,<br/>Inside those doors the floors are sweet,<br/>There’s rugs and carpets you can eat,<br/>And best of all the wallpaper needs licking!</p>
</blockquote><p>     The lady stepped up from her desk, carrying the sheet of paper and approaching the seated children.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>This day of punctuality,<br/>Is scheduled to the nth degree,<br/>I wish that there was time to share,<br/>My thoughts on make-up, clothes and hair.</p>
</blockquote><p>     “Sir,” Evangelist cleared her throat, looking at Sebastian.</p><p>     “Yeah?” he responded.</p><p>     “Sine qua non and entre nous.”</p><p>     “Mhm?”</p><p>     “Your foot is on the other shoe.”</p><p>     “Oh, dear God!”</p><p>     “Please strike that, reverse it! Let’s get on with our day! Grace Hobbs!”</p><p>     Grace scooted the plain orange chair to Evangelist, Russel opening his lunch box to look at his packed food.</p><p>     “Oh, Miss! Good morning!” said Grace, sweetly.</p><p>     “Good morning and you must be Russel!” Evangelist greeting, looking at the large child. “Goodness, you look so faaa...nnntasticly healthy. I could really eat you up, but I’m on a gluten-free diet. You won’t really need this.” The lunchbox was stripped from the boy’s hands and tossed behind her.</p><p>     “But that’s my lunch, ma’am!” Russel cried.</p><p>     “Not anymore,” she chuckled, kicking the metal box aside. “You may go first, but lose the rest.”</p><p>     “That’s sad because my momma packed it.”</p><p>     “Don’t worry, sonny. To lead our group, Russel Hobbs, for who could lose sight of him?”</p><p>     “Yes, who could lose sight of him?” the group said in unison as Grace put her son back in the horizontal line of chairs.</p><p>     “Evangelist,” a father beamed, holding out a business card, “Gilbert Cracker from Cracker Winery and Cracker Farms!”</p><p>     The woman took the card and placed it in her suit’s front pocket. “Pleased to meet you, Gil,” she grinned. “Business treating you well?”</p><p>     “Well—“</p><p>     “We can talk all day except we won’t. Just kidding! I’m fascinated by Crackers! I used to be crackers myself. And who’s this adorable tot in a coat?”</p><p>     “Paula!” Paula cutely giggled.</p><p>     “Polly. Like ‘Polly want a cracker’,” Evangelist taunted.</p><p>     “It’s Paula.”</p><p>     “Polly?”</p><p>     “Paul-LA!”</p><p>     “Lala? Okay, La not Lee, I get it. Dear, where did you get that mink?”</p><p>     “Are you for real?”</p><p>     “It’s baby seal that’s clubbed and tickled pink,” Gilbert concluded and scooted her red throne away with Paula snobbishly looking at her hand mirror from her designer bag.</p><p>     “Clubbed and tickled, clubbed and tickled, clubbed and tickled pink!” the group sang.</p><p>     Rachel proudly hummed and scooted the blue throne. “Rachel Pot, nurse at Crawley Family Hospital! I’m filming!”</p><p>     “Oh! Dear! Film all you want, it’s allowed,” Evangelist smiled, shaking the nurse’s hand.</p><p>     “And... the manager of the Double Bubble Duchess.”</p><p>     “Please to have you here, Your Grace. What is it that you do?”</p><p>     “I play piano, sing, dance, and most impor’antly,” Stu checked his nails, “I chew.”</p><p>     “Same gum for the last week,” Rachel hugged her son. “It’s really something! He’s getting a photo shoot, a gig at a cafe, and an interview with Oprah! Isn’t he something?”</p><p>     “He really is, Mrs. Pot,” Evangelist cringed, “I just don’t know what...”</p><p>     “Just let me in, I’m here to win,” Stu places his hands on the desk.</p><p>     “You like to toot your own horn. Your confidence is quite intense, but just don’t jump the gum.”</p><p>     “Don’t jump— don’t jump— just don’t jump the gum!” the choir repeated.</p><p>     Cyborg began to shoot some chocolate balls at Russel, with him only successfully catching them. Sebastian widened his eyes at this nonsense, ordering his son to stop his robot. Russel smiled at Cyborg and passed around the chocolate balls, creating joy to Evangelist’s silly tunes.</p><p>     “Murdoc Alphonse Niccals!” Sebastian hissed. “Stop this foolishness at once!”</p><p>     “Murdoc Niccals?” Evangelist approached as Cyborg stopped. “Didn’t you get your ticket by hacking into my computers?”</p><p>     “Good Lady, those are just allegations,” Sebastian said, perspiring.</p><p>     “Murdoc, the brain, tell me how you’ve cracked my system?”</p><p>     “Shut up, old bitch,” Murdoc spat, making the other parents gasp and cover their children’s ears. “I’m trying to create more excitement into this. Take it as help.”</p><p>     “Take it as help!” the chorus sang.</p><p>     “It seems I missed someone,” Evangelist said to herself and looked at Noodle. “Ah! How could I forget you? You got your ticket at the very last moment. Don’t be so late next time! Oh! What’s wrong?”</p><p>     “Anata wa boku ga kitai shita monode wa arimasen,” Noodle said, looking up at the woman.</p><p>     “Ah, you don’t speak English. Oh well. Now, Mr. Niccals, Cracker, Mrs. Hobbs, and Pot...”</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>You’re visitors in my backyard,<br/>When shepherding this tiny troupe,<br/>And so I look for you to lead,<br/>Your future generations,<br/>I must insist you hear and heed,<br/>My rules and regulations,<br/>Outside my doors you’re free to do,<br/>The charming things that make you you,<br/>The traits that make you each a kid,<br/>A mirror of your parents' id<br/>But once inside you must obey<br/>“Do as I do, not as I say…”<br/>Damn, strike that! Reverse it!<br/>Oh, the games the mind can play!</p>
</blockquote><p>     The guide scrambled into her chair, digging into her cabinet, pulling out a long scroll and pens.</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>I’d love to lounge and lollygag,<br/>And give each tongue the chance to wag,<br/>But I must get you all to sign,<br/>This contract on the dotted line,<br/>There’s no reprise, the way time flies,<br/>To “dot the ts and cross the is…”<br/>No, strike that! Reverse it!<br/>Please ink without delay!</p>
</blockquote><p>     “May I see the dossier?” Gilbert asked.</p><p>     “And negotiate his pay?” Rachel eyes at the guide.</p><p>     “What does this contract say?” the parents asked in unison.</p><p>     “Well...” Evamgelist whispered.</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>The undersigned herein to fore,<br/>Cite frippery or force majeure,<br/>No property be touched or chewed or peddled!</p>
</blockquote><p>     “What she say?!” the adults cried as they were being wrapped with the long scroll.</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>De facto habeas corpus laws,<br/>For you a new grandfather’s clause,<br/>Sign there, there, there, there, there,<br/>Thank god that’s settled!</p>
</blockquote><p>     “What does she expect us to do?!” Grace held her curls.</p><p>     “I’m confused!” Sebastian shouted.</p><p>     “This tempo is preposterous!” Gilbert tried to struggle out of the wrapping.</p><p>     “JUST SIGN!!!” Murdoc, Russel, and Stuart shouted and the adults, out of fear, signed the contract.</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>So now the time has come at last,<br/>To put the present in the past,<br/>It’s time to take the golden tour,<br/>And taste the tempting treats du jour,<br/>The day is young, the sun is high,<br/>And so it’s time to say “goodbye”</p>
</blockquote><p>     “Goodbye?!” the children gasped together as a chorus.</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>No, strike that! Reverse it!<br/>The next time I’ll rehearse it<br/>Get ready, set and on your marks, let’s go!</p>
</blockquote><p>     Each child began running down the hallway as a rat race. Noodle tried to run as fast as she could to catch up with Murdoc. Paula attempted to push Stuart out of the way as Russel was quickly running out of breath.</p><p>     “You’re stupid!” Murdoc told Russel.</p><p>     “You stink!” Russel bit back.</p><p>     “I’m winning!” Paula cackled at Stuart.</p><p>     “Yew fink?!” Stuart questioned, trying to outrun her.</p><p>     “IKOU!” Noodle hopped like a bunny.</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>On with the show!</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. The Great River</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WARNING! CONTAINS SEXUAL HARASSMENT, AND A LIL BIT OF 2DOC</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>     The guide reached into her pocket to bring out a keychain. The keychain was a golden hoop with red keys, each labeled differently. She flipped through the keys until she found the correct one and stuck it into the keyhole. The key twisted and she bent down to the children’s eye levels.</p><p>     “Ladies and gentlemen,” said Evangelist, “boys and girls, welcome to the Chocolate Room.”</p><p>     Her gloved hand pushed the door open and a white light blinded the guests. The light pulled them into a wonderland of abundance and beauty. Jawbreakers as stones, a land bridge, several gummy bears, hills, and a great waterfall. The ground was soft and smelled like chocolate cake as the grass was soft without a single strand of dead grass. Bushes were adorned with flowers, berries, and little yellow teacups. There were candy cane trees, some with fruit and some without. A few plants were consisted of creme, chocolates, or even honey. The children were stunned at the candy butterflies flying over them and the amount of candy sitting there right in front of them.</p><p>     “I’ve never shown this room to anyone before,” Evangelist said, walking into the ground. “Everything here— every plant, tree, and butterfly is made completely and <b>entirely</b> out of candy.”</p><p>     “Ane-San,” Noodle whispered to Cyborg. “Boku wa futabi yume wo miru hitsuyou wa arimasen.”</p><p>     “Miss Evangelist, pinch us please,” the party murmured, “so we can taste this forest full of treats.”</p><p>     “Go on!” the guide pushed everyone away. “Go explore! Shoo! Away from me!”</p><p>     Murdoc pulled Stuart to behind the trees, Paula went to the hills with her father, Russel on his own, and Noodle with Cyborg and the guide. The only ones left in the center was Rachel and Sebastian.</p><p>     “Mrs. Pot,” he coughed. “I offer you a stand with me now that your son is away.”</p><p>     Rachel’s face contorted and she hit the man with her purse.<br/>     “How dare you!” she snapped. “I would never betray my husband with a dirty man like yourself. My David isn’t always the forgiving type, but at least he would never abuse our son into being afraid! Get out of my sight, you wicked creature.”</p><p>     <br/>     “Tea?” Evangelist offered the two girls.</p><p>     “Oh, thank you!” Cyborg said, taking the cup. “You’re very kind! Sorry I caused you trouble in the lobby. I was only following orders that were programmed into me.”</p><p>     “It’s alright dear. Your baby sister is well-behaved so far. I mean, everyone is.”</p><p>     “Yeah,” Cyborg said, letting Noodle eat a candy butterfly. “Why do you create all of this?”</p><p>     The guide paused, thinking.</p><p>     “Oh! Sorry if I insulted you in a way!”</p><p>     “No! Not at all. I know my ways and reasons, but I’ve never had to explain my choices to anyone.”</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>A painter needs no reason<br/>To make a thing of art<br/>Yes, there’s no switch to stop and start the flow<br/><br/>A gardener has his season<br/>His green thumb and his heart<br/>Don’t ask the man “why does your garden grow?”<br/><br/>A poet sits for hours<br/>With words upon his tongue<br/>He cannot help but rhyme his doom and gloom<br/><br/>So if you taste my flowers<br/>You’ll see that I’m among<br/>That certain group, that lucky troupe for whom<br/><br/>It’s simply second nature<br/>To wish away the gray<br/>To take a licorice stick and make a tree<br/>Yes, there’s no rhyme or reason<br/>I was simply made this way<br/>What’s strange to you is natural to me<br/><br/>It’s simply second nature<br/>To paint outside the lines<br/>It merely is the way that I was born<br/>You see I’ve been selected<br/>To create the unexpected<br/>And make each day feel just like Christmas morn </p>
  <p>Picasso took a torso<br/>And turned it on it’s head<br/>It isn’t right or wrong, it’s what he felt<br/><br/>And Dali, even more so<br/>Would positively dread<br/>Explaining why his hands of time should melt<br/><br/>And me, I take sweet honey<br/>And make a tasteful rose<br/>What can I say? It’s simply what I do<br/><br/>Some men make pots of money<br/>They’re happy, I suppose, but<br/>Be grateful that for just a lucky few<br/><br/>It’s simply second nature<br/>To see what isn’t there<br/>The mind is such a wonder to explore<br/>And though some nights I dread<br/>All the voices in my head<br/>I’d rather be this way then be a bore<br/><br/>It’s simply second nature<br/>To dream of something new<br/>Then wake on fire and try to sculpt each day<br/>It’s no blessing, it’s a curse!<br/>Wait, no, strike that and reverse<br/>I wouldn’t have it any other way</p>
</blockquote><p>     Meanwhile, Murdoc and Stuart were eating strawberries they found in the bushes they hid in. Murdoc fed the blue-haired child the strawberries, feeling his peach lips nom onto the fruit.</p><p>     “Bluebird,” he said, blushing lightly, “I want you to see my true self. I think you know that I—“</p><p>     SMOOCH!!</p><p>     “I know,” Stu said, knocking Murdoc back. “And I like daht. I want it to be special. I really like yew, Muds.”</p><p>     “O-OH?! I want to be even closer when we’re older. Maybe married?”</p><p>     “Yes! YES! YES! ‘FOUSAN’ TIMES YES!” Stuart was in a tabletop position on top of Murdoc and both boys blushed even harder. “Hehehehe... mmmm... cookie?”</p><p>     “Oh, Stuie!” Murdoc knocked Stuart over. “I love you!” he nuzzled the boy.</p><p>     “I fink I saw some good truffles over dere,” Stuart pointed. “Let’s get em! Last one there’s a ro’en egg!”</p><p>     “Oi! No fair!”<br/><br/></p><p>     Russel was far away from everyone else. He had eaten lots of sweets and he was just relaxing on the ground. The child was on the edge, looking at his reflection in the river. Suddenly, he blacked out with a voice trapping him.</p><p>     “You know you want to drink that, Russ,” Del snickered. “You know it’s good chocolate. Fuck what that guide says. Start drinking.”</p><p>     Paula was nearby without her father. She shook upon gazing at Del and Russel. Russel was already dipping his hands into the river, taking big slurps, loudly. The girl screeched, alarming the adults and other children.</p><p>     “Ugh,” Murdoc grumbled. “What is it—HUH?!”</p><p>     Everyone stared at the possessed boy and the ghost. The ghost began to shrink back into the boy’s ear, making Russel snap out of it, but it was too late. He had leaned in too far just as Evangelist came, yelling at him.</p><p>     “My chocolate!” Evangelist screamed. “Bring down the plumbing!”</p><p>     A large suction came into the chocolate, sucking up Russel and gallons of chocolate. Russel screamed in horror as the suction lifted him from the river and look him into a separate pipe.</p><p>     “Where is he?!” Grace wailed.</p><p>     “In that pipe with my workers,” Evangelist pointed. “Oh, let me introduce the Superfast Jellyfish.”</p><p>     “What the—“ Murdoc yelled. “Jellyfish?!”</p><p>     “They’re ready for their performance.”</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Cut, dice, mince, slice<br/>Time to make the fudge<br/>Churn, chop, pound, pop<br/>Time to make the fudge<br/><br/>Snap, snip, whisk, whip<br/>Let your stomach be the judge<br/>Boil, beat<br/>Hey, turn up the heat! <br/>'Cause everyone loves fudge</p>
  <p>Farewell Russel Hobbs<br/>It's time to say goodbye <br/>You great big greedy nincompoop<br/>It's time to fudgify<br/>You never tried to make a friend<br/>But now we'll have some fun<br/>For though your tour is at an end<br/>Our joy has just begun</p>
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  <p></p>
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    <p></p>
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      <p>     “Momma, I’m stuck!” Russel’s voice echoed in the pipe.</p>
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    <div>
      <p>     “Try to squeeze a bit, baby!” Grace cried.</p>
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    <div>
      <p></p>
      <blockquote>
        <p>Once ground, twice pound<br/>Time to make the fudge<br/>Stretch, strain, cause pain<br/>Time to make the fudge<br/>I’m tellin’ ya…<br/>Sift, shake, then we bake<br/>And stick it with a fork<br/>Don't throw away the scraps today<br/>'Cause we love candy pork</p>
      </blockquote>
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    <div>
      <p>     “I love you, momma!” Russel seemed to be moving up, judging by the direction of his voice.</p>
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      <p>     “I love you, too!” Grace sobbed, trying to find her son’s direction to know if he’s okay.</p>
    </div>
  </div>
</div><blockquote>
  <p>Farewell Russel Hobbs<br/>Your tour is now complete<br/>You show the meaning to your group<br/>Of “you are what you eat”</p>
</blockquote><p>     “So, Grace, courage you must show?” Evangelist asked Grace. “But please don’t hold a grudge. As a boy, he was so-so, but he makes tasty!”</p><p>     The jellyfish danced, turning, kicking, and happily feeling the beat of their own music. They seemed to relish Grace’s ugly crying and Russel moving up the pipe towards his demise. He would make very good candied pork and at least he would be with his ghost friend.</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Yes he makes tasty!</p>
</blockquote><p>     “RUSSEL!” Grace screamed at the top of her lungs as her son’s face was no longer visible.</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>FUDGE!</p>
</blockquote><p>     “Where’s my baby boy?!” Grace pulled on Evangelist’s suit. “Where?!”</p><p>     “Fudge room, I believe,” the guide calmly said. “Don’t worry, they’ll catch him before he gets cooked into the fudge. I’m not a monster.”</p><p>     A jellyfish grabbed Grace’s arm and dragged her away from the party.</p><p>     “Get your hands off me!” Grace screeched. “If he gets injured or killed, I will sue the living... ehh... FUCK OUTTA YOU MOTHAFUCKAS!”</p><p>     “I thought Grace was a woman of respect,” Evangelist flatly said. “Never knew her mouth would slip up like that. Oh well, we shall move on with proper transportation.”</p><p>     A huge figure began to emerge from the tunnel and it was a lovely pink boat in the shape of a dragon. Quite small, but enough seats for the remaining guests. It stopped just when the party stood.</p><p>     “All aboard!” Evangelist called.</p><p>     “Wow! Kawaii!” Noodle said, Cyborg first in line to step into the boat with Noodle.</p><p>     “Ladies first! That means Paula!” Gilbert shoved the girls away.</p><p>     “If she’s a lady,” Rachel scoffed, “then I’m an uncouth beast.” The nurse grabbed the Cyborg’s hand and kissed the baby’s forehead. “You alright, lovies?”</p><p>     “Yeah,” Cyborg said, “thank you, Mrs. Pot. You’re very kind.”</p><p>     “Don’t worry, sweetie. You can in front of us if you like.”</p><p>     “Movah,” Stuart tugged onto his mom’s dress. “I fink I’m gonna be seasick.”</p><p>     “It’s okay, sweetie. Just chew your gum and it’ll make you feel better.”</p><p>     “I take very good care of my guests, Mrs. Pot,” Evangelist butted in.</p><p>     “Oh, yeah,” Gilbert laughed. “You took very good care of that Hobbs kid.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Pot’s New Stage Name: Juicy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This scene is just for de plot, not sexual content since this is an 11-year-old child. Also...<br/>WARNING! GORE, AND CHILD DEATH (not complete death tho)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>     “Pobre Russel,” Murdoc crossed his arms, getting off the boat.</p><p>     “Russel?!” Evangelist cried. “Never mind Russel! What about MY machinery? It’s all going to need to be cleaned and production stops. Instead, you’re all worried about Russel, Russel, Russel! Ugh!”</p><p>     The woman marched to the telephone and dialed in a number.</p><p>     “I hope she’s joking,” Stu told Murdoc.</p><p>     “I hope,” Murdoc replied. “But Russel’s strong.”</p><p>     “Bones in the toffee,” Evangelist grumbled, hanging up the phone. </p><p>     Everyone looked at her in disgust and fear, thinking Russel was slaughtered.</p><p>     “He’s fine! He’s not slaughtered... yet. Why the long faces? Does anyone want to go home?”</p><p>     “No!” each child blurted out.</p><p>     “That’s the spirit! Now, let me show you the next room!” The guide pressed the button, making the metal wall rise. The room was filled with colorful smoke, chemicals, testing tables, and numerous machines. There was a huge mixing pot up ahead and a colorful dance floor. </p><p>     “Morning, jellies!” Evangelist waved.</p><p>     “Morning!” they all responded back.</p><p>     “We’re currently working on the hair growth candy,” the jellyfish in the headphones said. “We found the correct solution to use for the serum mix.”</p><p>     “Perfect work!” the guide praised. She turned her body to the party. “I’ve got just the thing for all of you!”</p><p>     Murdoc grinned and motioned for Cyborg and Stu to huddle with him. </p><p>     “Remember, don’t give into temptation. She’s setting traps.”</p><p>     “Leave it to us!” Cyborg whispered.</p><p>     “Yeah! Nofing looks interestin’ anyways,” Stuart blew his bubble and popped it.</p><p>     “Everlasting Gobstoppers!” Evangelist flashes red balls to the party, four of them in one hand. “You can suck on them all year and never lose its flavor or shrink! Keep them in good condition and you’ll pass them to your grandchildren!”</p><p>     “How could you make a profit off them?” Gilbert asked. “You could only sell them once.”</p><p>     “I don’t plan to sell them at all,” Evangelist shook her head as she handed one to each child. “I made one for each of you, children.”</p><p>     “Arigatou gozaimasu, Eban-San!” Noodle thanked. </p><p>     “Make sure you don’t lose it!” the guide chuckled.</p><p>     Stuart looked at the gobstopper and wrinkled his nose. Sucking it all day would be disgusting and not a good look on him. What if the lady had any kind of gum to offer?</p><p>     “Ew!” Stuart cringed.</p><p>     “Something wrong?” Evangelist sweetly smiled. </p><p>     “Suckin’ sucks, lady!” Stuart whined. “I wanna chew!”</p><p>     “Well, how interesting, Stu. Perhaps, you would enjoy in my latest work!”</p><p>     She approached the DJ Jellyfish and whispered in his ear. He handed her a stick of gum and she approached Stuart. </p><p>     “It’s my meal gum and it gives the chewer the feeling of eating a whole meal! It’s not quite ready yet but—“</p><p>     “GUM!” Stuart squeaked, removing the gum in his mouth and sticking it behind his ear.</p><p>     “Stu— what are you doing?” Murdoc gasped. </p><p>     “It’s just gum, Muds,” Stuart began chewing.</p><p>     “It may end markets, cooking, grocery shops, and save billions of dollars!” Evangelist said.</p><p>     “But it will end my business!” Gilbert screeched. “It might revolutionize the retail center entirely!”</p><p>     “It could, Mr. Cracker, but it won’t,” Evangelist shook her head.</p><p>     “Why ever not?” </p><p>     “There’s a problem with the pie.”</p><p>     Stuart suddenly popped up his head in shock.</p><p>     “Tomato soup!” he shouted, gaining his mother’s attention and her camera’s too.</p><p>     “That’s the starter,” Evangelist said. “Soups are always fine starters.”</p><p>     “Roast chicken! Green beans and garlic bread!”</p><p>     “Main course with sides! Typical,” the guide wrote down in the book.</p><p>     “Potatoes and gravy!” Stuart shook Murdoc, making him dizzy.</p><p>     “Supposed to be a side, but got separated somehow.”</p><p>     “Fizzy orange!” Stuart licked his lips, feeling himself drink sugary soda.</p><p>     “The drink— Wait! Stuart! Don’t hit dessert!”</p><p>     “Ignore her, Stu! You chew, son! Do it!” Rachel protested.</p><p>     “Stuart!” Evangelist warned. “No!”</p><p>     “Cheese and crackahs!” Stu closed his eyes, enjoying the little snack.</p><p>      “STUART! YOU SHOULDN’T HIT—“</p><p>     “Oh my!” Stuart gasped in awe. </p><p>     “What is it, baby?” Rachel asked.</p><p>     “Pie!” Stuart shouted with Evangelist slapping herself. The boy hugged his mother as everyone gasped in horror, gawking at the boy. “Blueberry pie wif’ creme and thick crust!”</p><p>     Rachel opened her eyes to realize her son’s back feeling... thicker? It was probably his jacket? She saw her son’s face and shrieked.</p><p>     “My goodness!” she pointed at Stu. “What’s happening to him?!”</p><p>     “Excess juice underneath his skin, I believe,” Evangelist said. “It always goes wrong at the blueberry pie.”</p><p>     “What does that mean?!” Rachel cried, horrified at her blue swelling son.</p><p>     Stu fanned himself with his, now blue, hand to calm himself down as he chewed harder. He unzipped his track jacket and saw that his white shirt was turning lavender and the rest of his clothes were becoming a darker shade of blue, save for his shoes. He looked at Murdoc, who was astonished.</p><p>     “Movah? Wot’s ‘appenin’ to me?” Stuart demanded. “I’m scared!”</p><p>     “I’m sorry, Mrs. Pot,” Evangelist pokes Stuart with her cane, testing his pressure. “It means he’s turning into a blueberry.”</p><p>     Stuart chewed aggressively, doing what he can to calm himself down.</p><p>     “And here he is!” DJ shouted, putting on a funk-pop record. “New in the number one! Chewing up the charts! He’s big and getting bigger, he’s blue and getting bluer! He’s a fruit-based sensation and he goes by the name of Juicy!”</p><p>     Stu turned around, back facing the jellyfish and heard laughing. Stuart looked at his back to check if anything was going on there and he saw his bum growing bigger. The boy blushed and he saw Murdoc blushing a burnt red, Cyborg and Noodle looking mortified, and Paula giggling and pointing. Stuart tried to cover himself with his shirt, but the attempt was pathetic. He felt his legs numb up with juice, making it hard for him to move them. Stuart gave it all he got to lift his left foot and he was able to make small steps towards his mother. Suddenly, he was able to run.</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Everybody wants a piece of the action<br/>Everybody's talkin' 'bout Juicy!</p>
</blockquote><p>     “Help me!” Stuart shouted. Paula laughed at Stuart only for him to make a threatening gesture at her. The boy managed to run to Murdoc. “Muds, I don’t know wot’s goin’ on ‘ere! I look ridiculous!”</p><p>     “You’re not safe here!” Muds stuttered and pointed behind the mixing pot. “Hide behind there. I think you’ll be safer!”</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Mummy wanted him to be the main attraction<br/>Now everybody's talkin' 'bout Juicy!</p>
</blockquote><p>     “What have you done to him?!” Rachel shouted at Evangelist.</p><p>     “Get me outta ‘ere!” Stuart screamed, spinning in circles as his world became blue and hazy, as if he had a sugar crash. He turned to the other direction and ran behind the mixing pot.</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><br/>Juicy is a boy named Stuart Pot<br/>He doesn't have a talent as far as we can see<br/>But he wants to be a star<br/>Though there's nothing he can do<br/>She's gonna be famous now<br/>For just turning blue </p>
  <p>SQUEEZE THAT URCHIN OUT!</p>
</blockquote><p>     “I can’t have a blueberry for a son!” Rachel got in Evangelist’s face in a threatening manner. “I’m calling my lawyer!”</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Everybody wants a piece of the action<br/>Everybody's talkin' 'bout Juicy<br/>Mummy blew him up into a big transaction<br/>Now everybody's talkin' 'bout Juicy </p>
</blockquote><p>     “Mummy!” Stuart shouted and was shoved by a jellyfish. “They’re gonna—“</p><p>     The child was pushed into the empty mixing pot through the door. He noticed the floor inside was a metal platform as it was slowly rising him.</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>He always wanted fame<br/>Now he’s 'bout to explode (pop!)<br/>We'll scoop up every chunk<br/>And we'll serve him à la mode (mm hmm!)<br/>He’s gonna hit the big time<br/>When the big gum drops (woo!)<br/>He’ll finally burst his bubble<br/>On the "top of the pops"</p>
</blockquote><p>     Murdoc looked behind to see the dance floor shine as the room’s lights went out. He saw Stuart rising out of the mixing pot, clothes stained with juice and shining. His beloved was fully rotund and being spun around like a disco ball, humiliated and miserable.</p><p>     “Señora Pot! Mira a Stuart!” Murdoc yelled, pointing at Stuart.</p><p>     “Oh my God!” Rachel hung up the cellphone. “He’s big! He’s handsome! I could put him on the cover of Fruit Monthly!” The mother went to dial another number. “I’m calling Martha for the change of plans.”</p><p>     “Mummy! No!” Stuart flapped his hands in protest, feeling his face puff up, silencing him.</p><p>     “Don’t worry, baby! We’re going to be rich!”</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>His lips say nothing<br/>And his hands do less<br/>His clothes are yours<br/>‘Coz soon he’ll need a tent for a dress<br/>His stomach will be perfect<br/>When it’s squeezed and it’s oozed<br/>His brain’s in mint condition<br/>Cause it’s never been used<br/>His legs are good and sturdy<br/>'Cause they ran toward the spotlight<br/>You have to take ‘em both<br/>To split them up would be not right<br/>But you had better hurry<br/>If you wanna grab his ear<br/>Cause in 15 minutes<br/>He is bound to disappear</p>
</blockquote><p>     “Baby! We’re going to be rich!” Rachel cheered, unconcerned about her son’s state.</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>AHH!<br/>Everybody wants a piece of the action<br/>Everybody's talkin' 'bout Juicy!<br/>His favourite body parts <br/>Will soon be yours for a fraction<br/>His insides flying overhead<br/>Will be a distraction<br/>Today nobody knows about Ravel or Debussy<br/>But everybody knows about<br/>Everybody's talkin' 'bout…<br/>Ooohhh… Juicy!</p>
</blockquote><p>     Suddenly, an explosion was heard and purple goo and organs were splattering on the ground. Most of the party members were horrified except Paula, who was smiling. The jellies began collecting Stuart’s remains and even his <b>head</b>. </p><p>     “HE EXPLODED!” Rachel wailed.</p><p>     “Gotta go back to the drawing board on that gum,” Evangelist said under her breath.</p><p>     “HE EXPLODED!” Rachel repeated.</p><p>     “He didn’t explode, Mrs. Pot. His... bubble burst, that’s all. Now, follow the jellyfish to the juicing room and they’ll bring his remains and perform an operation to bring him back to normal. Your son’s jelly now and he’s slowly melting as we speak. They’ll save him, don’t worry.”</p><p>     “HE EXPLODED!” Rachel cried and fainted, being dragged away by a jellyfish.</p><p>     Murdoc scowled with burning cheeks and dried tears at the guide. <br/>   <br/>     “What?” the guide asked, looking at Murdoc. “Oh, he’ll be fine! Let that be a lesson to all of you! Although, fermented blueberry juice does go well in the gin fizz, right Mr. Niccals?”</p><p>     “Oh yes,” Sebastian nodded. “I had the honor of drinking that at the pub. The sweetness of the fruit mixed with the bitter and burning gin is perfect. It’ll spoil the taste if you add that boy into the gin.”</p><p>     “Alright! Let’s move on!” Evangelist laughed.</p><p>     “Don’t worry, Murdoc,” Cyborg placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure Stuart will be alright. After all, it’s sort of his fault for chewing that despite her warning.”</p><p>     “If he doesn’t make it,” Murdoc sniffled, “that bitch will pay.</p>
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